Teenage Dream
by KP02
Summary: Or something like that. In which Natasha is kind of punk, and really only speaks to Bucky, Steve, Sam, and sometimes that nerdy, but strangely attractive, guy, Tony Stark, who has his own little clique anyways. And then the new kid waltzes into study hall and plops down next to her, and it's not long before she finds herself opening up to something else. Much Stucky and Clintasha.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Why am I doing this? I have no idea. I have never had the urge to do a high school AU. I mean, there are a lot of them out there. But here. Have another one. It's kind of slow-moving, I'll warn you. And it doesn't pick up until like the third chapter.**

Chapter 1

"Hey, Nat!" Natasha Romanoff turned at the sound of the nickname, tensing for a moment until she realized who it was. Steve Rogers, the senior striding towards her, somehow looking like an oversized puppy even with his massive size. He was one of the few on the football team that actually fit into his letterman jacket, and the huge grin on his face hardly ever left.

"What's up, Steve?" She asked when he got closer, leaning against her locker. She still didn't know how they'd gotten to be friends. They were total opposites, he was the good boy who never skipped class, obeyed every rule. And she was...well, she was her. A far cry from the preppy girls that populated the school, with her leather and combat boots and hair that changed nearly every day. But he'd decided they were friends since she'd started the high school, when he was a sophomore and she was a freshman.

"There's a new guy, just transferred in." She raised an eyebrow, silently asking why this was important. They got a lot of new students, the school was a fairly prestigious one.

"He's an archer, and he plays football. I guess he's amazing, never misses a shot and his teams haven't lost once in the past four years." Steve babbled, grin never leaving. Natasha fought the urge to roll her eyes. Three years and he still didn't understand that she didn't care about the sports. She much preferred ballet, as much as most people wouldn't guess.

"He sounds fantastic." She said dryly, pushing off the locker and heading towards their first period as the bell rang.

"I don't know, I haven't met him yet." Steve admitted, then was distracted by the dark blur that had attached itself to his side. Natasha made a show of grimacing as he and Bucky greeted each other in a very affectionate manner. It was disgusting, but sweet. They finally separated and Natasha nodded in greeting to Bucky. She liked the senior, he was quiet, calm, a good fit for Steve, tending to alternately drag him further into trouble, or hold him back from his stupidly noble ideals. Plus he didn't take any crap about their relationship, which was important. Steve was her best friend, if his feelings were hurt, she would hurt someone, badly.

"Steve here was telling me about the new guy. Looks like he's got a bit of a crush." She teased, and Bucky gave a dramatic gasp.

"Why, Steve! Are you leaving me for another man? I am truly hurt." He pouted a bit, clutching Steve's arm playfully as the man in question gave her a dirty look.

"No, I think he's far better suited for Natasha." He teased and she huffed.

"As if."

* * *

"Are you listening, Mr. Barton?" Clint Barton snapped back to attention when the annoying assistant principal raised her voice slightly and gave a smile calculated to charm.

"Of course, ma'am. I've got my schedule and I'll be at practice this afternoon. Thanks for your help." He told her, leveraging himself up out of the uncomfortable chair. He was out of the room in the next moment, breathing a sigh of relief. New schools were always the same, although this one was a little better. Certainly nicer. Cleaner than most.

He stuck his hands in his pockets as he wandered down the hall, whistling slightly. First period, study hall. That would be convenient for putting off homework. He shifted the bag hanging off one shoulder before entering the classroom.

"Clint Barton?" The teacher questioned and he gave a cocky grin and a salute.

"Present, ma'am." He answered, eyes scanning the classroom. There were two seats open, by a girl who looked like she could feed him his lungs and be bored while doing it, or next to a couple preppy girls that kept giggling and staring at him.

"Sit wherever you want." The teacher sighed, sitting back down at her desk and opening a book. He shrugged and went for the seat next to the dangerous girl, sticking out a hand to her.

"Clint. You look like you're really good at that one carnie game, the one where you shoot the ducks? You've got a steady hand." He said with a smirk. She eyed his hand for a moment and he could feel the stares of everyone around them. Then she gave a smile and shook his hand.

"Natasha. And I'm fantastic at it." She turned to look at the blonde guy sitting next to her, not letting go of his hand.

"Hey, Steve, he seems like your type." She said in a teasing tone that didn't really fit with her demeanor, but it was almost cute. She was definitely pretty, beautiful even.

"Sorry, I like tall, dark, and handsome." The blonde said with a grin, "you mind letting go of him so that I introduce myself?" She finally let go of her hand, leaning back as the blonde reached forward to shake his hand.

"Steve Rogers. I'm captain of the football team. And the wrestling team. I hear you're joining?" He was definitely charming, Clint could give him that. And definitely good-looking.

"I'm looking into it, depends on how long I'm staying." He said agreeably. Foster homes weren't exactly conducive towards staying for a long time in one place, but this team seemed like a good one, if Steve was any sign of what it was like.

"Well, we'd love to have you. We need a few more good guys." The dark-haired man next to him leaned around next.

"I'm Bucky. I'm on the martial arts team and drama. No jokes, Nat." He said in a manner of someone well-used to being teased. Clint just chuckled.

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

The introductions were interrupted by the entrance of a handsome, dark-skinned boy, looking to be a junior or senior. The teacher hardly looked up from her book.

"That's the third time this week, Wilson. Better watch it." The teen just flashed a smile.

"Sorry, but there was crazy traffic." The teacher just waved a hand at him and he headed towards their group.

"Guys, you let someone take my spot? Hurtful." He teased, waving a kid with glasses away from the desk behind Natasha and slumping over it to join the conversation.

"Well, we had to try to get away from you somehow. Besides, Clint is far better looking." Natasha replied without looking up from her book. The other boy just chuckled lowly, looking at him.

"I'm Sam. I suppose you're the guy that Steve has been fanboying over?" He asked, smile not leaving once more. Clint shrugged.

"I suppose so, don't see why. I'm just a normal guy."

* * *

"A normal guy, huh?" Sam asked after the twentieth bullseye in a row. Clint gave a grin and lowered his bow.

"A normal guy." He agreed with a smirk.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm apparently having a lot of fun with this story, so here's another chapter. I'm nearly done with the third chapter, but I'm gonna wait until I have the fourth done to post it. Although reviews might make it faster?**

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

"Mama! I just killed a man…" Natasha snorted and held the phone away from her ear.

"Clint, your singing is truly terrible. And if you killed someone, then go away, I don't want to hear it." She told him dryly. His laugh made her smile, even over the phone. They'd known each other two weeks now and she already found herself liking him more and more. He'd managed to worm his way into her tight circle of friends, and she actually rather liked it.

"No deaths yet. Whatcha doin'?" He asked, and she heard some sort of rustling coming from the other end.

"Watching TV. You in your nest?" She teased. It hadn't taken long to find that he liked getting in high places, specifically a tall tree halfway between the school and his house. She still hadn't managed to get to his house, none of them had. She had her suspicious as to why, after all, foster kids weren't in a great situation, and he'd let it slip a few days ago that it was why he'd moved around so much.

"Yup. You want some company? It's the weekend, I'm thinking a sleepover. Some sort of movie marathon." She leaned over the back of the couch, peering at the calendar.

"Yeah, looks like the parentals are gone for the next few days. I'll text the guys." She offered.

"I've got Sam, I want to show him this cool falcon bird call I found." He hung up, he never said goodbye and she looked at the phone with a puzzled expression. Bird calls?

"I want a horror movie!"

"Zombies!"

"No, Lord of the Rings!"

"Shut up, we're watching Anastasia." Natasha called over the arguing, the title screen already coming up. The guys grumbled a bit, but settled down, the popcorn bowl settled on Natasha's lap, on one side of the couch. Steve and Bucky took up the other half, the latter nearly draped over the former. Sam was on the floor, leaning against Natasha's legs and occasionally stealing popcorn, and Clint was perched on the arm, looking surprisingly relaxed. Natasha yawned as the movie started, leaning her head against the back, closer to Clint than to where Steve was being disgustingly adorable with Bucky.

"This is a kissing movie, isn't it?" Clint muttered with a smirk and she grinned, poking him in the side. Was that a wince? If it was, it was gone in the next instant.

"Shut up, this is my favorite movie."

* * *

Clint stretched when the movie ended, careful not to wake Natasha, who had somehow ended up sleeping against his side. Steve and Bucky were out cold as well, wrapped around each other. He couldn't help the smile as he looked down at Natasha, pushing a strand of hair away from her face. He liked her. More than he had anyone in a long time. It made where he was bearable, he didn't want to leave. He'd made friends, dangerous as it was, because he'd have to go eventually, he always did.

"She's been hurt, you know." Sam's soft voice made him look up and he frowned.

"Everyone has." He said, equally as softly. Even though it made him irrationally angry that someone had hurt her. The world hurt people though. That was how it worked. Sam eyed him for a moment and Clint met his gaze, wondering whether he'd pass inspection. Because that was really what the last two weeks had been for the guys, he was sure. It was them figuring out if he was good enough for her. Looking at the group's dynamics, she was the little sister of the group, and they practically worshipped her. She got her way, and that was that. But he had no doubts that they would not hesitate to chase off any guy they didn't approve of for her. Sam finally smiled.

"Good luck."


End file.
